


Postcards from Home

by mrspollifax



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: Comment Fic, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrspollifax/pseuds/mrspollifax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz and Brandon, right after the final Domino vid.  Because you just <i>know</i> Fitz reads <a href="http://xkcd.com/386/">xkcd</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Postcards from Home

There are an awful lot of people out there being wrong on the internet.

But it's okay, because Fitz Williams is on the job. He's witty, he erudite, and he's feeling pretty invincible after the major win he, Darcy, and Gigi just scored.

So the idiots on the internet? They are totally going down.

They've been at it for a while, of course, but Fitz is a busy guy. He likes his nice office and his nice friends and his very nice boyfriend, so he doesn't spend a lot of time exploring the wilds of insanity out there in world wide web-land. But since he'd finished packing in about 15 minutes, and Brandon's still at it an hour later — yakking on the phone to his mother the whole while — Fitz has got a little time on his hands right now.

So he'd started reading the news online, an entertaining variation from the podcasts he usually prefers, and he'd made the mistake of scrolling past the end of the article and into the comments section.

Yeah. A whole lot of wrong, and a whole lot of crazy. This needs fixing right now. Fitz flexes his fingers, cracks his knuckles, and pulls up the keyboard on his phone. 

He's somewhere in the middle of a response to some middle-aged stick-in-the-mud who really needs to go back and review his notes from high school government class when he hears Brandon says goodbye to his mom and the sounds of pacing and drawer-banging cease. Fitz keeps on typing as he listens to Brandon's steps as he crosses the living room and comes to stand behind the couch.

He stops typing when Brandon wraps his arms around Fitz's shoulders from behind.

"How's Mom?" Fitz asks, turning to look up at Brandon.

Brandon _hmms_. "Oh, you know. Fundraiser this. Doctor visit that. The usual crazy." He taps a thumb against Fitz's chest. "She says hi."

"She did not." Fitz grins. "She said, 'Tell Fitz to get a haircut and make an honest man out of you.'"

Brandon chuckles. "It might have sounded more like that." Shifting slightly, he leans around Fitz to look at the phone in his hands. "Whatcha up to?"

"Surfing places on the internet that make your mother look entirely sane."

"Ah." Brandon leans forward a little bit more, his hands slipping from Fitz's chest to slide down his arms. Fitz is just thinking that he should probably point out that it's not all that long till they have to leave for the airport, and he's pretty sure Brandon should finish packing instead of blatantly coming on to him, when Brandon abandons said come-on and plucks the phone straight from Fitz's hand.

"Vacation," Brandon says, straightening up and jerking the phone out of Fitx's reach before he can grab it back. "And that means _no smartphones_."

Fitz blinks. "You're kidding, right?"

"Not even a little bit," Brandon says, looking smug.

Fitz blinks some more.

"Oh, come on. What are you going to miss?" Brandon asks, dangling the phone between his fingers. "Someone being wrong on the internet?" 

"That's not—" Fitz starts, then falls silent with his mouth still hanging open. 

"Well?" Brandon raises an eyebrow in a passable imitation of Mr. Spock, or possibly of Darcy, which is even more disturbing. 

Fitz closes his mouth and shrugs. "There are an awful lot of wrong people out there. They must be stopped."

"But not this week."

"Really?" Fitz pouts a little, an expression he'd never let Darcy or Gigi see _ever_ lest he have to endure mocking until the end of time. Sometimes it works on Brandon, though.

But not today. Brandon just crosses his arms and shakes his head.

"Fine," Fitz says, crossing his own arms. "Then you can't bring that fancy biography of Lincoln you just bought. You have to read _magazines_ all week."

Brandon tips his head to the side, considering. 

"And you have to at least let me _pack_ the phone. In case there's an emergency. But I promise not to touch it."

"Oh, right."

Fitz reaches up and tugs on Brandon's shirt until he leans back down, then kisses him, soft and slow. "I'm planning on being too busy to educate the internet anyway," Fitz says when he pulls away again.

This time it's Brandon who's blinking, and Fitz who's trying not to look smug.

"Okay, whatever," Brandon says, pocketing the phone and heading back to the bedroom. "But it's going in _my_ suitcase."

Fitz laughs. He'll take that as a win. He's still witty, he's still erudite, and yeah, he's pretty damn invincible if his boyfriend is jealous of his smartphone. Stretching out sideways on the couch, he plucks the remote from the coffee table and flips the channel to CNN. There are plenty of wrong people on TV, too. He'll just yell at them for a while instead.


End file.
